


The Pull Of The Moon

by Drarrymadhatter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrymadhatter/pseuds/Drarrymadhatter
Summary: Harry and Draco are given a detention in their 8th year. Will they manage to get along for the duration?
Kudos: 6





	The Pull Of The Moon

**Author's Note - Written for the Quidditch League Competition**

* * *

The Pull Of The Moon

Harry tugged the collar of his travelling cloak higher around his neck as he shivered against the bitter evening chill. The castle was eerily still and, as the heavy entrance doors clattered closed behind him, he felt a shiver of a different kind run down his spine and into his finger tips? Fear? Not likely. More like healthy respect for the hundreds of terrible things that could happen - not surprising since this would be the first year in his entire Hogwarts career that some deranged mass murderer wasn’t after him. The reminders of Voldemort were everywhere around him after all; from the cracks in the stone steps on which he stood to the scorch marks from misfired curses staining the grass covering the expansive grounds. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see the swirls of coloured smoke and sparks dance against the backdrop of the midnight blue sky. 

Harry became aware that he was standing as if stunned at the top of the steps to the entrance hall, his breath fogging rapidly in front of him as his mind raced through the past. Harry forced himself to take slow, deep breaths of icy air and made himself remain standing, no matter how much his knees wished to buckle. Malfoy would be about soon and Harry had to look in control, if not actually be in control. _Fucking Malfoy_ , he thought bitterly. A minute or two later, what felt like an age, and Harry had managed to regain some semblance of calm. Once again, he reached to tug on the collar of his cloak, when the entrance doors clunked open and crisp footsteps made their way towards him. 

“Enjoying the night air, Potter?” Malfoy had stopped next to him and was staring straight ahead, as if Harry was beneath his notice. 

“Well, you might have nothing better to do but some of us would like to have this over and done with.” Malfoy began to walk down the steps, clearing half of them before he realised that Harry hadn’t moved. 

“Well? Are you coming or not?” 

Harry merely gave a vague nod in Malfoy’s direction before walking down the steps past him towards Hagrid's Hut.

* * *

Having received their instructions and equipment from Hagrid, Harry resigned himself to his task and picked up his rucksack, purposefully making his way towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, not caring whether Malfoy followed or not. No one actually wanted to do detention, true. It was even more true that no one wanted to do detention at night in the Forbidden Forest on a full moon. But what was the point in grumbling about it? Honestly, Malfoy had put up so much for a fight you would think he was the one that had died amongst those trees. Harry refused to think about that fact, however, and merely called out for Malfoy to hurry up as he quickened his pace. The sooner this detention was over with, the better.

Once they had reached the edge of the forest, Harry stopped and looked into the looming branches apprehensively. Next to him, Malfoy harrumphed impatiently, but Harry ignored him. It was fine, he had this. He’d been in the stupid forest countless times, so this would be fine. Harry sighed and pulled his wand out of his back pocket, but before he could do anything else Malfoy pulled his own out, keeping his eyes on Harry suspiciously. 

“Relax Malfoy, I’m just figuring out which direction we need to head in.” He laid his wand flat on his palm and muttered “ _point me”_ , breathing out a sigh of relief when the wand pointed in a slightly different direction from the clearing where it had all happened. 

“What the hell was that about?” demanded Malfoy, still eyeing Harry suspiciously.

“Hagrid said the Mooncalves are usually in the North section of the forest near the river, right? Well don’t you think it would be useful to know which direction North actually was in?”

“Whatever Potter, let’s get this over with. And keep your wand out, you know, just in case.”

With that, they set off into the shadows of the forest.

* * *

Finding the spot Hagrid had directed them to was easier than they thought. The Mooncalf burrow was nestled within the side of a grassy mound on the edge of a small clearing lined with trees. Grass and leaves covered the ground, as did several fallen logs and branches. The river burbled and gushed nearby and the moon in the midnight blue sky gave the area a silvery glow, creating something beautiful, peaceful, and picturesque. It was precisely this lulling sense of peace that had Harry on edge. Nothing in this forest was truly peaceful, something he had discovered that the hard way.

They had quickly decided upon setting themselves up behind a small copse of pine trees a few meters from the entrance to the burrow. The Mooncalf, when it emerged, would need to pass by their hiding spot to get to the river or feed. Harry used his trainers to kick away some of the larger twigs and debris and settled himself cross legged at the base of one of the fur trees. Malfoy, after glaring at the ground for a few seconds, followed suit and cleared himself a space. However, before he sat he pulled out a gingham blanket and spread it over the ground. Harry barely managed to restrain himself from scoffing at Malfoy’s prissy nature. _As if sitting on the ground for an hour or two would kill him,_ thought Harry grumpily, although he did have to admit the blanket looked comfortable. Casting a covetous glance at the blanket, Harry settled in to wait for the Mooncalf.

A couple of hours later the Mooncalf still hadn’t shown it’s face. The evening darkened further as the night drew closer to Midnight and the temperature was starting to drop considerably. If Harry had thought it was cold before, he clearly had underestimated the chill of a Scottish winter night. Next to him, wrapped in his blanket, sat a grumbling Malfoy, hissing and mumbling under his breath about Godrick knows what. 

“Bloody hell, Malfoy, can’t you shut up? The Mooncalf will never show up if you don’t wrap your bloody moaning.”

“Forgive me if I’m cold, Potter. Not everyone was raised in a barn as you obviously were.”

“Fuck off Malfoy. You’re not the only one that’s cold.” hissed Harry, his patience finally snapping. “It’s Scotland. It’s winter. It’s night. It’s quite bloody obviously going to be fucking cold. Deal with it.”

Malfoy shot Harry a stony glare and fell silent.

“You think it will be much longer?”

“How the hell should I know, Potter? Besides, thought you wanted quiet?”

“We can’t have total silence, that’s unreasonable. We need to divide up the tasks anyway.”

“Tasks?”

“Yeah, you know, who does what.” With that, Harry pulled a roll of parchment out of his rucksack and began to read the instructions Hagrid had given them out loud.

“Observe and take notes of the Mooncalf’s behaviour. How many are there? Any mating rituals performed? Note the weather/temperature conditions. Fill all 3 jars with the dung. Mooncalves are skittish and shy so try not to bother it. Leave the jars outside Greenhouse number five.” As he finished reading the instructions, Harry looked expectantly at Malfoy for his input. 

“I can assure you right now, Potter, that I have no intention of touching Mooncalf shit. That _task_ , as you put it, is all yours. I’ll be in charge of taking notes. Your handwriting is illegible at best, so there’s no point you bothering with that.”

Harry shot a withering look towards Malfoy, before turning to scan the parchment again.

“I don’t get it.” puzzled Harry.

“What a surprise,” mumbled Malfoy, not quite quiet enough for Harry to miss it, before relenting, “Ok, fine, what don’t you get?”

“Well ok, collecting Mooncalf Dung seems a bit random, but then Hagrid always was a bit strange so I usually just go along with him. But why are we to leave it outside the greenhouse? What’s that got to do with anything?”

Harry watched Malfoy’s face go from annoyed to incredulous.

“You really can’t be that thick, Potter. Think, if you can. Stop if you feel like you might pass out, though.”

“Would it kill you to bloody answer a question normally for once and not be a total prat?” demanded Harry, his cheeks colouring self consciously.

Malfoy sighed and looked at Harry, looking suddenly weary. 

“Dung is a decent fertiliser in Herbology. Different types are used on different plants, depending on what you want to achieve. Mooncalf dung speeds up plant growth, like Valerian? Hence why Sprout would be needing it. Honestly, Potter, sometimes it’s a wonder that you don’t operate backwards.”

“Fuck off, Malfoy. Just because I don’t know about animal shite and plants doesn’t mean I’m bloody stupid. It just means that, while you’ve been indulging your weird plant poop fetish, I’ve been doing stuff that’s actually worthwhile, that involves actual talent.”

“Get fucked, Potter.” spat Malfoy, turning around to face the other way and effectively ending the conversation.

* * *

Harry glanced over to Malfoy’s back and felt the guilt that had been brewing in his stomach settle into what felt like a hard ball. Ok, Malfoy was an arse at times, but there was no need for Harry to be the same. And Merlin knows this detention was bad enough without having Malfoy pissed at him. Harry rubbed his hands on his jeans and took a deep, steadying breath. It was laughable really, how he could feel more nervous at the thought of apologising to Malfoy than when he walked to face Voldemort.

“Malfoy?” began Harry hesitantly. However, having seen no sign that Malfoy had heard him, he ploughed on, “Look I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to make it sound like you weren’t, erm, contributing, or that you were talentless, or had weird fetishes.” 

Malfoy turned to face him, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“I really am sorry, ok?”

“Fine, Potter. Don’t get your robes in a twist.” drawled Malfoy, as he shifted over to sit near Harry once more.

“So, how come you know so much about plants?”

“You really want to know?” Something in Malfoy’s tone alerted Harry that he might not want to hear whatever it was Malfoy was about to say. However, he had asked and Malfoy clearly wanted to reply, so he shrugged and nodded.

“Last year, during...everything, I spent most of my time at the Manor. The grounds are full of gardens and greenhouses. I didn’t have my wand so I couldn’t lock my door, so when some of _His_ people were around, like Greyback or the Carrows, I was...I wasn’t able to...there would have been no way to fight them off.” 

Malfoy paused, seemingly needing to gather himself and Harry couldn’t help but stare at him in apprehension.

“None of them ever bothered with the grounds and much less with the greenhouses, so I hid in there. It was safe. After a while I started to get interested. I snuck books on Herbology from the library. I found out that, surprisingly, I quite liked plants”

Harry, still reeling from all the unsaid things in Malfoy’s story, blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

“What is it you like so much? Not that...just, I’m curious is all.”

Malfoy gave a small smile at his obvious fluster and plucked at the cuffs of his thick jumper.

“I guess it’s because they don’t judge me. When it comes to it, I can just relax, be myself.”

“Yeah, I can get that. One of the worst things about being me is that everyone always wants a bit of me. I actually get panicky at times because of it, you know. They all think I’m this amazing guy with insane powers and they all want to use it. They all want me to support this, and speak at that, and the whole time I need to be _nice_ about it. And sometimes, I just think, you know, f _uck being_ _nice_. Who the hell is nice all the bloody time? It’s exhausting.”

“Whatever, Potter.” Malfoy’s tired tone grated on Harry a bit, and he couldn’t help but push his point a bit more.

“Do you wonder if it would be easier to live somewhere else where you do not matter?”

Suddenly, without warning Malfoy lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of Harry’s cloak, bringing his sneering face within a mere inch of Harry’s startled expression. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Potter? You’re seriously going to sit there and moan about having such a hard fucking life? Everyone loves you? Big fucking deal! Everyone _hates_ me! No matter what I do or choose to do in the future, they will _always_ hate me. I can’t walk down Diagon Alley without getting hexed six ways to Sunday! Have you any idea what I went through to try and get my school supplies for this year? In the end I had to have them owled in. So don’t you fucking dare sit there and moan about people liking you too fucking much. At least you have options!”

Harry sprawled back as Draco released his robes with a shove, disgust evident in his aristocratic features. It was obvious that he had put his great big Gryffindor foot in it. Of course Draco would be having a hellish time, and he never even spared a thought for it. Righting himself, Harry leaned forwards and placed a placatory hand on Malfoy’s arm. 

“That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t saying that I have it as bad as others, just that I find it a bit much. I know it’s well meant, but it gets claustrophobic at times. I had no idea things were that bad for you. “

“It’s fine, Potter, I get there’s only so much your puny brain can cope with at one time.” The words, although Malfoy’s usual snark, lacked bite. Harry looked at Malfoy’s face to see a small smile tweaking the corner of his mouth.

“So, if you could be somewhere else where no one knew you, what would you do? You know, after school?

“Honestly? I have no idea. I don’t suppose it matters much anyway. I’m hardly going to get an onslaught of job offers, no matter what I get in my NEWTs.”

“Well, I suppose you don’t really have to do anything, do you? You still have the Manor and money, so I suppose you don’t actually need to work. You could just devote your time to your plants and stuff. Relax.”

“That’s what everyone will think, isn’t it? Poor Malfoy, so worthless he can’t find a job and just sits around on his talentless arse pruning roses and burning money in the drawing room fire.”

“No one’s going to think that, Malfoy. You have plenty of talents you could -”

“Shhhh!” Malfoy demanded suddenly, nodding towards the clearing just beyond their hiding place. Harry watched in amazement as a small, silvery creature with bulging blue eyes slowly crept out of the burrow, pausing every couple of steps to sniff the air for danger. 

Harry grinned at Malfoy for a moment, before whispering a tease, “Ready to take notes, Malfoy?”

“That depends, Potter,” replied Malfoy quietly, “are you ready to collect some shite?”

* * *

Harry placed the three jars on the pathway outside of the specified greenhouse and cast a quick Tempus to reveal that it was now 3am. _Thank Godrick tomorrow is Saturday_ , thought Harry tiredly. He looked over towards Malfoy and saw that he was as exhausted as Harry was. 

“You got the notes alright?” 

Malfoy nodded absently, “I’ll hand them in to Hagrid tomorrow once I’m awake. I’ll need to go over them to make sure nothing’s been left out.”

Harry nodded his agreement and they both hefted their rucksacks onto their backs and made their way back towards the castle in companionable silence. Once they had reached the 8th year common room, they paused. 

“Well, night Malfoy,” shrugged Harry, before turning to head to his bed. However, as he opened the door to his room, Malfoy called out to him.

“Do you really think I have talents, Potter?” 

Surprised, Harry turned to face Malfoy, who looked embarrassed that he had asked such an insecure question.

“Yes, absolutely.” assure Harry with a small smile. “You might be a snobby git, but no one can say you don’t have talent.”

“Like what?” asked Malfoy with a shy smile.

“Erm, like Potions. Herbology. Quidditch.” Harry shuffled his feet nervously before continuing, “You managed to fix that cabinet thingie and that took some serious problem solving.”

“What else?” grinned Malfoy, obviously enjoying making Harry feel uncomfortable.

“Bugger off Malfoy, I’ve too tired to stand here massaging your over inflated ego for you. Go to bed.”

Then, with one last grin at Malfoy, Harry went into his room and closed the door behind him.

The next day, after wolfing down a hasty brunch, Harry went into his room to grab his broom for a quick game of three on three Quidditch. However, as he neared his bed, he saw a package resting on his blankets. Cautiously, he picked up the package and opened it to reveal a wooden box. His curiosity now peaked, Harry opened the box and found some fresh cut sprigs of lavender inside, along with some oils for aiding sleep and anxiety. On top, was a small hand written note card. 

Scarhead - 

Relax and get some decent sleep for once.

\- DM

Harry sat on his bed and smiled at the thought of Malfoy waiting for Harry to go down for food before sneaking in to leave the box. _Fucking Malfoy_ , he thought to himself, however this time, he thought it fondly.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
